


Drumfred Drabbles

by dela_love



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: #almond, #alternate timeline, #boys riding ponies in the english countryside, #cute, #drumfred, #fluff, #i refuse to accept cannon, #i was listening to a lot of one direction while writing this, #travel, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 19:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17834762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dela_love/pseuds/dela_love
Summary: Aaaahhh okay so this is some like if Eddie didn't die stuff. Good fluff. Not a clear plot just yet... Will decide upon one soon.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> heck okay what do I put here? Uh so this chapter is just your basic "wow i almost died but didn't wow im so happy!" So i think I'll make a playlist as I write? 
> 
> "about you now"// meadowlark

Edward’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest. His palms were sweating and he was aware of how hard he was breathing. He could not believe that he had almost been killed. And to think that he would have died without seeing Alfred one more time.  
It was unbearable.

Drummond was out of the carriage before the horses had come to a complete stop. He didn’t wait for the driver to open the door and help him down. Instead, he bolted out and into the restaurant faster than the bullet that had almost killed him.  
As he made his way through tables of half-drunk guests, his heartbeat only intensified. God. What if he went home?  
Just as he was about to give up, he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. Edward made his way over and sat down. Alfred smiled that blessed smile.

“Drummond, I see you decided to come back and sample the oysters after all.”

“How could I not? Especially with such a wonderful companion.”

They exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, chatting about the food and the champagne. And then Edward decided to tell Alfred what had happened to him. What had almost happened to him.

“You… You almost died. And the last time we spoke I did nothing but chastise you. I’m sorry, Edward. God. Please forgive me. I don’t want you to marry Florence at all.”

“Think nothing of it. You are forgiven.”

Perhaps it was the gentle incandescence of the candles, perhaps it was the champagne, but Alfred looked absolutely angelic.

“I think… that I have had enough excitement for one evening. What do you say we depart?”

“That is wise.”

The carriage ride home was quiet. There was no pressure to say anything at all. Edward wrapped his arm around Alfred and pulled him close. He inhaled the scent of him and relished in the fact that they were simply there together. Alive together.

Neither knew what the next day, or week, or month, or year would bring. They didn’t know how they were going to keep up their elaborate ruse. They didn’t know what would happen if someone were to find them out. But they also didn’t care. As long as they had those precious stolen moments. That was enough.


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys have a sister soft moment and decide to take a holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "kiss me"// ed sheeran

It was after dinner when Alfred heard a knocking on the door. The palace was still very much alive with courtiers and entertainers. He could hear the gentle piano from one of the parlors. His Serene Highness, Prince Ernest, was pounding out Chopan on the keyboard— no doubt to win the forgiveness of his beloved Harriet. The women laughed as they danced with their partners. Alfred had retired, claiming that he was feeling ill. Even still, he almost expected Miss Cook to be waiting impatiently outside to snatch him to the dance floor; though it was perhaps, Alfred thought of her as a lost lapdog. 

But when Alfred opened the door it was neither footman or a lady caller. Edward stood at the doorway, bowing his head politely. “Lord Alfred, Mr. Peele has sent me to deliver some most urgent news from the government.”

“Of course,” Alfred scanned the hallway, seeing a handful of servants scattered about. He opened the door and Drummond walked in.

He had barely closed the door and locked it before Drummond was kissing him. Alfred looked into his warm eyes. They were the most astounding shade of brown. So many people overlooked brown eyes. But how could anyone look at Edward and think he was commonplace. And they weren’t just brown either; a thin halo of green encircled his irises, and small flecks of gold were dotted throughout. One could miss it if they didn’t look closely enough. 

Alfred grinned as he broke away for a moment, then rested the side of his face in the curve of Edward’s neck. 

“Darling…” he whispered.

“Mm?” 

“I am not quite sure what I was going to say. I just like the way it sounds to call you Darling.” 

It had began to rain. There was nothing quite as soothing as that sound. The two made their way over to the window seat. Alfred had blown out all the candles in the room, so no guards on patrol could see them. 

He had never felt quite so happy and content as he had in that moment. He looked out of the window into the night sky. The moon was bright that night, despite the rain. Even the stars were shining. 

Usually, the soot of London drowned out their brilliance. But not that night. 

“What are you thinking about, Dearest?” 

“My childhood. My family. The life I lived before I came to aide Her Majesty.” 

Drummond had his lips pressed into his hair, he could tell that he was smiling. “Tell me about it.” 

“No, it is dreadfully boring.”

“Please, I want to hear your voice.”

Alfred exhaled. He was glad that it was so dark. He didn’t want Edward to see him blushing. 

“I grew up in Lichfield. It's a small town that most people never hear of. A bit north of Birmingham. We had an estate on the moor. At night, the sky was a dark navy taffeta. Stars hung about it as if they were pearls and beads. And heavens, the moon. I have never seen a moon so beautiful. I’d lay in bed and look out the window. The entire moor was lit. I haven’t been back there in so very long.” 

Edward’s hands were resting on his shoulders. “Why don’t we go there then? On holiday. We could leave on Monday?” 

Alfred turned. He had not anticipated Edward to suggest such. 

“Really? You would go to the moorlands with me? No one ever  _ wants _ to go to the moorlands.” 

“I’d go anywhere if you went with me.” 


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> edward arrives at the paget family estate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "something wild (acoustic)"// lindsey stirling

The carriage bumped along the country road. Edward was sadly alone. It would have been indecent for them to ride together, so Alfred had left the morning prior. Though alone, he was not lonely. The moorlands had begun to stretch themselves outside the windows an hour or so before. 

Edward had never heard particularly high praise for the moors before. Most people thought of them as soggy, barren wastelands. But he could tell that was not the case. In fact, the scenery very much reminded him of Scotland. The grass was a grey-green with beautiful purple heather dispersed about. Upon the crest of a distant hill, he saw the figure of two children riding a pony. 

After a half day’s ride and a brief nap, the carriage came to a halt. Edward awoke from his stupor to see the Paget family’s large manor house. It stood before him like a mammoth; the stone was a bit stained with age, there were a few cracked windows on the upper levels, and the masonry was utterly gothic. It was a bleak looking building that enslaved the landscape so much as blended into it. 

But then the front doors opened. Alfred came out, nearly bounding down the stairs. He was followed by an older couple (whom Edward assumed were his parents), and two men (whom Edward assumed were his elder brothers). The driver had scarcely opened the door to the carriage before Edward came tottering out. His legs were unaccompanied to stable ground and he nearly fell into Alfred’s arms. 

“I must say I am right pleased to see you as well.” Alfred caught him and then wrapped him into a hug. It was brief and quite decorus, but Edward was pleased to be in his arms all the same. Then they broke apart.

“Drummond, my family and I welcome you to Heather House.” He gestured at the monolithic building. 

Alfred smiled that damned smile that overtook his whole face. He was like a small child, proudly showing off artwork. His enthusiasm for Heather House made up for the building’s lack of aesthetic appeal. 

Alfred’s parents stepped down the path, his brothers shortly behind. 

“Good to finally meet you, Drummond. My son has spoken most highly of you. I trust you will enjoy your holiday. The city can get so crowded this time of year.”

“Yes My Lord. I am extremely grateful for the invitation. Perhaps one day you could come to London to visit my estate.” 

Henry Paget let out a hearty laugh. “I don’t think so, Lad. And none of this ‘My Lord’ nonsense. Call me Henry. And I thank you for your offer, but city life isn’t for me.” he turned towards the small framed, graceful woman that stood by his side. “May I introduce you to my wife,”

Mrs. Paget stepped forward and outstretched her hand. Edward lifted it to his lips and kissed the air above her glove. 

“Charmed to meet you. My name is Charlotte.” 

Alfred then introduced his two elder brothers, Septimus and George. Septimus had a law firm in London and was home visiting with his family. George was the local doctor; he rode for miles through the countryside, servicing nearby villages. 

The others, he explained, were off in Manchester or London working on various projects and careers. 

A footman carried Drummond’s things up the stairs and long hallways of the house. The inside of the home was not as gloomy as he had expected. Everywhere he looked, light poured in from windows. The floor was covered with beautiful carpets. Charlotte saw him noticing them. 

“They’re arabic. My husband has several trading partners in Egypt,” 

“They’re absolutely fantastic,” 

“Why thank you. Alfred chose them. He has an eye for beautiful things,” 

Edward’s room was just as magnificent as the rest of the interior. It was simple and understated. The duvet was a light creme, as was the settee. Accents of navy and sky blue peppered the room. A bouquet of flowers sat on the bed table with a small card. He smiled, knowing whom they were from. 

“Dearest Edward, I hope your quarters are to your liking… if not then I suppose you could always join me. — A”

Edward laughed as he sat on the bed. He realized how thoroughly exhausted he had become. For as long as he could remember, life had been one long blur. Everyday he was rushing here and there, performing task after task. He finally had a chance to breathe. No clear schedule, no scheming or plots. Just fresh air and Alfred. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! i really appreciate the kudos. leave some comments with ideas if you'd like...

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
